


The benefits of friendship

by Beezarre



Category: Holby City
Genre: Bisexuality, F/F, First Dates, Meddling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27139048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beezarre/pseuds/Beezarre
Summary: When Serena agrees to go to the date Sian has arranged for her, it’s mostly to get her off her back. But faced with Bernie Wolfe and the possibilities she offers, she calls Fleur to the rescue.
Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe
Comments: 17
Kudos: 93





	The benefits of friendship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ktlsyrtis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/gifts).



> Belated birthday present for the amazing Jess, whom I blame for existing and corrupting us all in the best of ways! ♥
> 
> This is actually partly an older fic I had based on your overall way of thinking/writing and the idea that Sian and Fleur could make for a nice couple of matchmakers ;)
> 
> I probably have people to thank for encouraging me to start this in the first place (because my notes are written in a ‘I need to tell you about this idea I had!!’ format) but my notes have no name, so if this sounds familiar, thank you so much <3

A woman? Why would Sian set her up with a woman? Maybe she’d changed her mind, after all there was nothing wrong with making a friend in a slightly fancier bar than she normally went to…

The whole affair had started innocently enough, Sian gathering a few friends, half of whom complained about their former, current, or potential future boyfriends. Serena’s love life had been a desert, owing as much to what options she had than to her work schedules that were unforgiving and had driven a couple men away which, in reflection, hadn’t been all that bad. Sian had tried finding her a match in the past, with various degrees of success. Namely a two months courtship that got nowhere, a near stalker, and a short lived relationship Serena was tempted to rekindle on lone nights despite their ‘differing views’.

But Serena was positive, her date, the only person in the room with a light pink coat draped over the back of her seat, was definitely female. Come to think of it, the light pink should probably have been an indication, but men did wear pink, too. A mental image of Dom’s rising eyebrow formed in her mind and she brushed it off, suddenly feeling a weight slip off her shoulders. Sian’s suggestion of finding her not a potential partner but friend with benefit had been downright ludicrous to start with.

“You must be Bernie.” She leaned against the seat beside the blonde and extended her hand, surprised by her date’s dark eyes and tight smile. Her handshake was gentle, but firm. “Bernie Wolfe,” the stranger offered, “similarly acquainted with one devilish Sian Kors.” She let out a sigh, clearly not as at ease with the situation as she would have liked to appear.

“Shall we get a booth?” Serena hadn’t settled down, suspecting conversation would be easier away from a barman’s ever open ears. She did a double take and noticed it was actually a barmaid, wearing a rather… unusual plaid waistcoat. The uniform bosses put their employees through these days.

They moved, Bernie now a head taller than Serena which the latter blamed on criminally long dark denim-clad legs. They secured the booth in the corner by the loos, Serena’s order of Shiraz arriving just as they settled down.

“So how do you know Sian?” It was pretty clear to Serena that her ‘date’ wasn’t particularly chatty, making up for it by a presence that didn’t surprise her. She knew full well who Bernie Wolfe was and that the woman was most likely the best surgeon this country had.

“She’s a friend of a friend, I don’t see her often but she does have a tendency to… meddle.”

“She’s done some amount of meddling on my end, but somehow she always manages to get me to talk.”

“She wouldn’t be half as good a lawyer if she didn’t.”

“Indeed.” There was a pause, Bernie’s eyes seemingly trying to stick to anything but Serena and landing in her white wine. “I’m surprised she thought to pair us up, we’re in the same field after all.” 

“I’m surprised we haven’t met before. I did get around before I joined the army.”

“Life is full of missed opportunities.”

Serena was starting to think this was one. The stranger was beautiful but Serena doubted they had that much in common past work.

Bernie was making idle talk, Sian’s words echoing in her head. Sian had basically had no idea whether or not Serena had had her lesbian/bisexual awakening yet, but had been dead certain Bernie would be more than enough. Now, Serena was relaxed, Bernie was tensed, and either the other woman was blatantly obviously to the fact that they were in a lesbian bar and she was on an actual date, or she was surprisingly at ease with it. The decor wasn’t screaming gay rights, but there was enough plaid and rainbow patterns to give off the right vibe without the place being aggressively homosexual.

She hadn’t even known about this place before Sian had mentioned it, which had made her wonder about her friend’s preferences. Now, faced with a colleague, Bernie was in an impasse. Either she turned on the charm, tried to flirt, which she tended to be tremendously bad at lest she found a decent sparing partner, or she let the conversation fizzle. Serena was a gorgeous woman, and she was already struggling to keep her eyes where they belonged. After all, this was Sian’s idea and a faux-pas wouldn’t be that terrible. She’d just have to avoid her for the rest of her career despite working in the same city, easy as pie. Maybe a hint was in order?

“I have to admit I was hesitant, though Sian’s perseverance is diabolical. You probably know who she’d paired me with, I think you work in the same hospital, hell she might have tried to pair you two up.” And she still hadn’t dropped a name. Berenice Griselda Wolfe, sure this white wine isn’t the best liquid courage you’ve ever had but you can still talk to a most likely very straight woman, can’t you?

“She never mentioned another friend at Holby City Hospital?” Serena was frowning, but she wasn’t tensed, merely interested, probably wondering who on Earth it could be.

“Fleur, Fanshawe? Small, fierce, and bright hair that’s impossible to miss.”

“Fleur! I didn’t even know she knew Sian, I’ve known her for a while.” The name seemed to bring back nice memories but then she could almost see the cog turning. 

Fleur. Sian had paired Bernie with Fleur. She had, vaguely, started paying attention to the rumour mill in the past week and gone fishing, heard about an affair, ‘something sapphic’ but hadn’t really paid attention. She hadn’t really paid attention to their surroundings either, but it was slowly starting to make sense. Sian hadn’t sent her there to just make friends, she’d been keeping the friends with benefits idea, seemingly forgetting the fact that Serena wasn’t into women. How on Earth was she supposed to extricate herself from this without bruising her ‘date’s ego was a whole can of worms she wasn’t going to open until she’s sent Sian a strongly worded text. And if Fleur ever heard of this, she knew she’d be done for.

Serena nodded vaguely to fill the silence that was slowly gliding toward awkwardness, motioning to the loos and ducking her head, thank god they were so close to them. The door opened on two young women with an arm around one another and Serena took another look around the room before wishing to find a place to hit her head. How had she missed this? The door closed behind her and she took a deep breath, looking into the mirror and the slight terror in her own eyes. Did she look like a lesbian? What did a lesbian even look like? This was ridiculous. 

Fishing her phone out of her pocket she started writing but didn’t seem to be able to finish the message. There was, technically, nothing wrong with this, save for the accidental gender mishap. After all maybe Sian had forgotten Bernie was short for… What was Bernie even short for? 

She tried to regain control over her breathing, wondering whether to go and hide in one of the stalls in case her ‘date’ came looking for her, deciding against it. What had Sian told Bernie? What on Earth had Sian been thinking? She knew the angrier she’d sound the more Sian would believe herself in the right. She was almost tempted to text Fleur, of all people, though clearly things hadn’t clicked between the two. Fleur was… direct to say the least, Bernie could be described as… smooth, Serena supposed.

“Are you alright?” She hadn’t heard the door open, bloody revolving doors, and had her back to Bernie though she suspected there was little her ‘date’ couldn’t see of her face in the mirror. Taking a deep breath she turned around and immediately forgot to breathe. Bernie had her head tilted to the side, her fringe over her eyes, leaning against the wall, nothing but gentle concern on her features. How long had Serena been in there? Had the other woman sensed her discomfort? She must have.

She was beautiful. That feeling, coming partly from the spot lighting her from above, hit her square in the chest. She’d thought it before, but not… experienced it. The atmosphere here was warm, and there was something about Bernie… Something that made her curse Sian, and Fleur as well, who always seemed to taunt her with her harmless flirting. Serena knew how to flirt, it was her defence mechanism. She could have flirted now, gotten herself out of that tight spot and ended the date shortly after under some excuse or other. But she didn’t really want to.

“Serena?” That soft concern again, a voice she wished she could wrap around herself and maybe things would be okay.

“I-” I’m straight is what she wanted to say, stuck in the bathroom of a lesbian bar with a bona fide lesbian who’d probably had her hopes up. “Sorry.” That would do. She looked away, vaguely noticing Bernie stepping closer. She respected her personal space but was closer than they’d been before, Serena’s eyes lingering on materials and curves she’d noticed before but hadn’t really… acknowledged. She was a doctor, of course she noticed these things. But was that really the reason?

She could remember that near miss in Stepney, all those years ago. She had never told Sian about it, not that she could remember, not that she remembered all of their conversations with clarity after one cocktail too many. Bernie was a catch, here for the same reasons she was. If she was to ever… be with a woman, that would hardly be the way to go. Why was she even considering this, she’d never complained about any man’s ability to- Actually she had, but she could think of heaps of other women who did without wanting to switch sides. Was that what she was doing? Bernie was beautiful, and definitely more attractive than the past few men she’d dated. When had ‘attracted’ come into play exactly? Was it her demeanour, her small smile, her dark eyes, the way that shirt…

She’d been staring, hadn’t she? She saw Bernie come closer, into her space, felt herself lean toward her. Eyes flicked to lips and Bernie made her move, Serena moving away but chasing her when she recoiled. Their breaths were mingling and Bernie’s hand, steady, firm, warm, was on her waist, anchoring her. Throwing caution to the wind, deciding that if it came to this they could leave this here, Serena met her halfway and was very glad for that hand on her waist because her knees were wobbling and god that woman could kiss. 

She felt more than she heard a moan, couldn’t have sworn it didn’t come from her, let her fingers grasp at the other woman’s open collar to keep her close, then changed her mind and let one tangle in her hair. They came up for air just long enough that, as medical professionals, they could keep their respiratory functions going. Serena couldn’t remember the last time she’d snogged in a bathroom, if any, but this was more than she’d expected out of this evening.

When they parted again Bernie’s eyes were darker, her lips red and tinted with Serena’s lipstick, and her shirt seemed to have, somehow, fallen open a little bit more on the tank top she wore beneath it. They heard the door open to reveal half a dozen girls about their daughters’ age and left a bit more space between them.

“You know where to find me when you’re ready.” Bernie motioned behind them at their booth and disappeared, long legs tracing long strides out of the room.

“Someone’s got it good.” One of the young women had spoken up and Serena’s eyebrow shot up in her direction. She looked at herself in the mirror, feeling like she should look different, shocked maybe, but she was still the same woman she’d been ten minutes ago. What was she getting herself into? Did she want this? She wanted to be kissed like this again, that was for sure, preferably somewhere a little more private. She wanted to explore more than the tousled hair and collarbones she’d gotten her hands on. She had more scared than she had been in years, and for the second time that evening genuinely considered contacting Fleur. To say what: “I kissed a girl and I liked it?” Wasn’t that a song?

She had to go back before Bernie left, decide what to do, too. She didn’t want to let this go. She didn’t think she could handle it, and all the questions it came with. Friends with benefits, that’s what they were there for. The hint of the benefit hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. Maybe the friendship part could be easing her into this new side of herself. As she passed the door she heard one of the young woman shout ‘go get the girl’ and hoped the sound hadn’t carried to their booth.

Bernie seemed to be looking in the distance, worry in her eyes. She probably thought she’d crossed a line. Biting her lip Serena walked to their table, took her drink and came to stand next to Bernie who looked at her quizzically. It took Serena putting her glass down on her side to realise what she meant and she scooted away to leave some space. She’d managed to remove the remainder of Serena’s lipstick from her lips and was now, again, right below a light fixture, looking like some sort of angel in need of a hairbrush. She noticed she hadn’t rebuttoned her shirt, maybe she hadn’t noticed. She felt the gentle pressure of one of Bernie’s hands on her thigh, tensed then relaxed into it, taking a sip of her Shiraz. Hell, even Shiraz paled in comparison to Bernie’s kissing, that was saying something.

“I’d like to see you again.” She’d made up her mind, no keeping it confined to the bar’s loos.

“Me too.” Clearly she hadn’t made too bad an impression. “Busy schedules permitting.” Bernie had winced, after all their needs for no strings attached was also their haphazard working hours.

“We’ll make them permit.” Serena felt sure of herself under Bernie’s gaze. It would work, it had to. She had the night to herself, knew this was as far as this would go, for now, knew, too, that she’d have trouble finding sleep that night.

She wanted to kiss her again, there, in the open, wanted to close that space, see how high Bernie would dare get her hand. Bernie seemed to get the message and the kiss was different this time, tentative, a discovery, unrushed, Bernie did try and hike up her hand but remained within the bounds of propriety.

  
“God, Serena.” Bernie was out of breath. She hadn’t known what to expect, her concern genuine when she’d stepped into the loos, the kiss sparked by what she’d seen in her eyes. Sian’s suggestion of ‘friends with benefits’ had not been something she’d been entirely at ease with. She was too busy, and in ways awkward, for a relationship, but wasn’t sure about a no strings attached arrangement. And with a woman with no experience… Well, she expected Serena had plenty of experience of her own, just not with another woman.

Bernie herself, having taken so long to admit it all to herself was hardly confident enough to call herself a potential teacher. Eye opener, maybe, it seemed. The woman sure knew how to kiss, Bernie couldn’t remember the last time her legs had turned to jelly like that. She was beautiful, and attractive, and interesting. Enough that there could be a ‘friend’ with the benefits, she thought, if only to ease the other woman in the joys of sapphic dalliances. She promptly promised herself never to use those words again even if her own mind. She was gazing at her, dark eyes filled with want and questions, questions only Serena could answer for herself. Maybe they could talk about it, though Bernie figured it would probably be awkward. She knew Fleur and if they were close then maybe… She immediately suppressed the tinge of jealousy she felt. And then there were Sian.

“Should we agree on what to tell Sian?” She’d spoken softly, she suspected Serena wasn’t too keen to tell their friends just what had happened. Serena licked her lips, which proved rather distracting and Bernie almost missed her answer.

“I’m not sure, what to tell her that is.” Serena sighed. “You know Sian.” Bernie nodded and let out a small laugh. “We can just tell her the drinks were nice, she’ll grill me sooner rather than later anyway.” ‘And give you time to think about what to tell her’, Bernie added to herself.

“That works for me.”

Serena fished her phone out of her bag. 

“We might want to send that now before she gets the wrong idea.” She didn’t elaborate on what the wrong idea might be.

Despite their conversation Serena wasn’t quite sure how to phrase her text so it would seem natural enough. She bit back a laugh when she saw how focused Bernie was, clearly not a fluent texter, her fringe in her eyes again. “This place has a decent Shiraz, thanks for the recommendation.” Would that do? Was that giving too much away, or not enough? She hit send before she could overthink it, Bernie still trying to finish whatever sentence she’d gone for. She got an immediate reply.

“How was the company?”

Damn Sian! Bernie had looked up with what Serena could only describe as a puppy look.

“I think the woman has her phone grafted in her hand, that’s really the only option.” Bernie’s laugh was loud and unexpected, she tried to stifle it but it was too late and she started blushing, which if anything made Serena want to kiss her even more. Something she wasn’t about to admit to Sian just yet.

“The company was fine.” It sounded a bit dry, probably what her past self would have sent if all they’d done was talk. She waited a few seconds but nothing came, and unless Bernie had missent her text she got no answer from their unholy matchmaker.

“Off the hook for the evening,” Bernie summed up, and Serena nodded. She noticed she was deep in though, eyebrows furrowed under her fringe. “I don’t have my schedule past the next two days and that’s packed full of more than I want to think about. I can text you when I know more?” The idea of Bernie painstakingly texting more than a few words made her wonder whether they shouldn’t agree to call.

“I cant wrestle anything before at least Wednesday.” That was close already, too close, too eager? “I’ll probably get my schedule before you, pros of being a ward lead, I’ll send it to you and you let me know?”

“Okay.” There was that soft voice again. “Is dinner at my place okay? It’s about as close to both our hospitals and some of the best takeaway in town, that way it doesn’t matter if we get out of work later?” 

Bernie seemed to panic at her own suggestion and looked about to backtrack. It was forward, but from the look in her eyes Serena genuinely thought she meant dinner. Maybe there’d be a bit more than dinner, but she had a point, which she probably didn’t know: Serena’s house was significantly further from Bernie’s hospital than from her own, which could prove problematic in case of an emergency. The cons of being a trauma surgeon is that, from what she’d understood, she was more or less perpetually on call even when she wasn’t. 

“I mean my flat is…” Bernie was trying to find a way to describe it. “Not exactly as fancy as this place, I haven’t been there long.” Something in her eyes betrayed the fact that it wasn’t the only reason Bernie’s flat might not feel too lived in. She suspected her reputation as a workaholic had more to do with it.

“I’m more interested in the company.” Now Serena was flirting, and Bernie looked at her from below her fringe as she took a sip of her wine. They were close, and Bernie’s eye betrayed just where she wanted her lips to go next. Serena was very much not a white wine person, but at this rate she might just change her mind. She liked how… simple their kisses were, soft and smooth, no stubble or attempts to take over, well they were but there were even, just soft lips and a teasing tongue that gave Serena butterflies. This was not the point. This wasn’t a date, not that kind of date anyway. 

Maybe she should go, leave it at that for the evening, think it over… Yet she knew she’d risk chickening out if she thought it over too much. Bernie kissed her again and she closed her eyes, reached for her waist, her warmth. When was the last time she’d been truly relaxed with someone. She felt Bernie’s breath ghost along her jaw, waiting just a second before kissing her neck and this time she knew who the moan came from, could feel Bernie grin against her skin.

“Cheeky.” She whispered, just for her. She missed the contact when Bernie moved.

“Too much?” Soft voice, puppy eyes, how did that woman not have all of England at her feet? She only shook her head, liked the way Bernie touched her, which she supposed was the whole point of this, if they actually did go for what the original plan had been. She suspected Bernie knew, wondered how much she knew, what Sian had told her. She was fine with friends with benefits with the benefits being kissing, which wasn’t something she’d have considered with a woman involved just a few hours previously. 

Perhaps she’d change her mind with the rest, maybe Bernie would change her mind if she was this good at kissing as she was as, well, everything else. What was odd about her was you could feel her strength and softness at the same time. She was former army, but in that moment there was no tough exterior, just a gentle core shining through. Serena hadn’t even finished her glass, she realised, she couldn’t even blame any of this on the Shiraz. She didn’t really want to finish it, didn’t want to end this moment.

“You’re beautiful.” Bernie had whispered and she seemed surprised to hear her own voice, apparently not meaning to say it out loud, blushing again, drinking for countenance. “You must have the whole of England at your feet.” Serena wondered whether she could read her thoughts, too.

“Only a select few mediocre men, and a string of junior doctors following me around like lost kittens.” Bernie laughed.

“The rest don’t know what they’re missing.” It suddenly felt like Bernie was seeing more, more than Serena thought she was.

“You can talk!”

“Broken workaholic soldier doesn’t do too well on dating profiles.” It sounded as if she’d almost tried.

“You’re not broken.” She knew what operation Bernie had had, knew she owed her life partly to Guy Self, possibly the only thing she’d ever be thankful for as far as the man was concerned. “And I’m fairly sure I’m a match for you in the workaholic department.” Hence why they were here in the first place.

“Most people don’t know the difference between workaholism and dedication. Your reputation speaks for itself.”

“As does yours. Doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a break now and again.”

“Tell that to people who keep drinking and driving.” She sighed.

She didn’t want to leave, Serena realised, tempted to order them both another drink, unsure whether Bernie actually did have to drive. She’d planned to get a cab herself.

“Earth to Serena?” Serena hadn’t realised she’d fallen silent, lost in contemplation of her date whose soft voice was definitely working wonders on the butterflies in her stomach.

“Sorry, just… thinking about this whole thing.”

“Need a quieter think?” There was a hint of something else in Bernie’s voice this time, a hesitation. Was this her way of ending their date? It had been a whirlwind, of sorts. Serena nodded, suddenly aware of how loud the music was, of how much this place was once you had soaked its atmosphere in. She got up and gathered her things, Bernie did the same and they met, standing, still somewhat out of view in their corner of the bar. 

Bernie moved slowly, almost hesitantly again but Serena met her halfway anchoring herself on her waist, their kiss slow, a promise of more. They walked out side by side, close enough that their arms brushed, not quite wanting to break contact, knowing things would be different as they stepped outside. Without a word, they started walking reluctantly apart before Bernie called out to her.

“Need a lift? It’ll take ages to get a cab from here?” She was being strictly practical, yet Serena couldn’t help but wonder whether there wasn’t more, at least a few more minutes gleaned in a close space.

“If you’re sure it’s no bother…” She didn’t want her to get out of her way. Bernie didn’t move, just tilted her head to the side. She really was a puppy, an irresistible one. Bernie had opened the door for her and Serena successfully managed to fold into the space the car allowed, letting out a giggle at Bernie’s practised folding of her much longer legs. Bernie started the car but didn’t pull out of the parking space, she turned to Serena with a slight smile and asked simply: “Where are we going?”

There had been such an ease in such a very short time that Serena hadn’t even thought of giving her the address. As she did, she realised she’d have to ask hers if they were to have dinner. Bernie promised to text it to her, although Serena suspected she might need a reminder. She’d had the feeling that she wasn’t all that good at technology.

They spent the drive in silence, Bernie focused on the road, occasionally stealing a look in her direction.

“Thank you, for tonight.” Serena found her voice more hesitant than she’d have liked. She saw Bernie smile.

“Thank you.” Soon, too soon, they’d reached Serena’s street, the brunette pointing at the house whose numbers were mostly obscured.

“That’s me.” Yet she was reluctant to go. She reached for Bernie’s hand on the gearstick and stroke her knuckles in a kiss she didn’t dare ask for. Bernie smiled again, hope visible in her eyes despite the relative dimness of the car.

“Looking forward to next time.” Bernie’s voice was low, making Serena whisper: “Me too.”

She knew she had to leave, unfold into the whole wide world, but it took her some more time to do so, sending a mock salute to Bernie as she drove off, waiting until the taillights were out of sight to get inside. What had she gotten herself into?

♥

“Fleur Fanshawe?”

“Fleur, it’s me.” Clearly Fleur hadn’t had time to check the caller id, hopefully she hadn’t interrupted anything.

“Serena! To what do I owe the pleasure? You had a date of a kind tonight, didn’t you?”

That had been Fleur’s guess, earlier in the day.

“Sian’s tried to pair me up with someone.”

“Nice, thanks to let me in on the gossip! I’m guessing there’s more.”

“I need advice.”

“My advice with men, as you well know, is ‘don’t’.”

“Which is why I’m coming to you for advice.” There was a pregnant pause. It was a girl.

“Sian Kors paired you with a woman?” There was a hint of both disbelief and admiration in Fleur’s voice.

“She did.”

“Damn is that woman clever, who’s the lucky lady?”

“Fleur…” There was warning in that name alone, Serena suddenly not so sure she should reveal who her mysterious date had been, for all their sakes.

“Oh come on, you can’t call me after a date, tell me you need advice and refuse to say who your date was with. If you’re not saying then it’s someone I know!” Fleur seemed pretty confident in her deduction. “Not that many free lesbians around here, I would know. Not that many Sian would know, either.” She hummed, Serena wondering whether her eyeroll was audible. “Oh. Oh! Not that gorgeous leggy blonde she’d tried to get me to date. I was too forward for her I think. Damn, what’s her name, star surgeon, probably some very promising fingers.” Serena didn’t want to think about her fingers.

“Bernie Wolfe.” Serena offered the name, figured she might as well cut to the chase.

Fleur whistled. A wolf whistle.

“Now that’s a catch, if you can get her to talk that is.” She hummed again. “So are you actually leaning in that direction, or just trying to extricate yourself from a thorny situation.” She sounded gentler this time. Serena had called her for advice after all, and a friend in need was a friend indeed.

“Well firstly I’d like a word with Sian…”

“Why are you calling me then?” There was a small silence.

“You’re the only lesbian friend I have?” It sounded almost like a question, who knew, maybe she had more, if she herself had no clue.

“Ok, so, admitting for one second that you also bat for our team.” She used our to mean both herself and Bernie it seemed.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re calling me, a lesbian, for advice about your love life. There’s nothing wrong with finding women attractive, darling, I would know. It happens, and that Wolfe lady is definitely a sight for sore eyes.”

“She’s… nice.”

“So you had, what, drinks, dinner, and bailed, is that it?”

“Drinks. And I didn’t bail.”

“Define ‘didn’t bail’.”

“She kissed me.”

“Right.”

“And I kissed her back.”

“Right!”

“More than once…” She could practically hear Fleur’s shit eating grin.

“Good girl! Now what?”

“Exactly.”

“Any plans?”

“Dependant on our respective schedules.”

“But…?”

“Dinner, her place.”

“Nice!”

“Fleur…”

“Wait, if I remember correctly Bernie had more or less admitted to not really being in the market for a proper relationship, what did Sian get you into?” There was another pause. “Friends with benefits? With a woman? Way to plunge head first in the deep end of the dating pool, darling.” Now there was concern in her voice.

“I think Bernie sensed my…”

“Tendency to believe you’re straight even though you aren’t? It doesn’t even take a good gaydar for that.” Fleur sighed. “That dinner might be her trying to test the waters. Worst case scenario you’ll gain another lesbian friend!”

“That might be awkward.”

“Because you kissed?”

“She’s a good kisser.”

“Knew it!”

“I don’t know what I want and I don’t know what that makes me and I’m too busy at work to have a sapphic midlife crisis.” There, she’d said it.

“Well you clearly want more of Ms Wolfe, in any capacity, what that makes you is a schoolgirl with a crush at the rate this is going, and it’s best to have a sapphic crisis now than when you’ll both need walkers to get around.” Serena could hear her smile, she had a point, she supposed. “Homework for tomorrow, list of pros and cons of going ‘further’ with Bernie, list of times you’ve thought women were pretty in more than a ‘nice outfit’ way- actually that’ll probably keep you busy enough. You don’t need to show me, I already know the latter will be filled to the brim. You’ve never been straight, you just never realised you had to look both ways before crossing the street, and got hit on without realising.”

“Fleur.” She sounded weary even to her own ears.

“Liking women isn’t as bad as you seem to think, and you could have done worse than Wolfe for a first snog!”

“Yes, but-”

“This doesn’t change who you are, you’re still you, you’ll just see the world a bit differently that’s all. No one needs to know but the people you trust, and I’m very glad you trusted me.” She paused. “Serena, you’ll be okay. Treat this as just another date.”

“But it’s not!”

“Why not? And don’t say it’s because she’s a woman.”

“I’m attracted to her.” There, she’d said it. “But friends with benefits is a bit…”

“Much for a first time?”

“Hm.”

“So work on the friend bit first. Make sure you trust her as much as you’d trust any man you’d have sex with. She’s pretty new on the scene, she doesn’t seem to be a big talker but it can help.”

“So wait and see?”

“Or in your case be on edge and overthink, yes. Look on the bright side, you’re not working in the same hospital, people won’t make the link if you both start acting weird at the same time.”

“Thanks, Fleur!”

“Always glad to be of service!” Serena could hear the cheekiness in her words just before the conversation ended. She was glad for her support, she supposed it was one benefit of friendship.

**Author's Note:**

> TBC…?


End file.
